Driving Mr Smith
by Alzbeta Batoriova
Summary: All he did was hit the curb... and added a nice dent to his mother's hood. Gary-centric one-shot.


"Driving Mr. Smith"

By: Seinasu

Disclaimer: _Bully _is copyright © Rockstar Games and all others associated with legal rights.

* * *

Mrs. Smith drummed her glossy, red, polished fingernails impatiently atop her steering wheel as she found herself in mid-morning gridlock. She and her son, Gary, were surrounded by dozens upon dozens of vehicles on all sides. She sighed and clicked her tongue in her mouth as she reached down with one hand, shifted gears, and applied the parking brake. She was tired, weary, and just flat out annoyed with everything that was going on around her.

"This is ridiculous," she moaned as she eased her foot off the brake and folded her arms across her chest. "We might be here for an hour."

She cast her eyes sideways and saw Gary beside her, with his hands folded on top of his lap and his head turned to the right. She stared at the back of his shaved head, noticing the faint bumps and scars that aligned his skull for a few moments, and then decided to bring up the subject left unsaid since they drove away from the DMV.

"Explain to me what happened back there to where you failed the driving test."

"Nothing to tell," Gary simply said as continued to stare out the window, assumingly at the other cars. "The instructor told me to take a right and I did."

"Yeah, right into the mailbox," his mother reminded him sharply.

Gary shrugged indifferently. She sat back into her seat and wrapped both of her hands on the steering wheel, gripping it tight, even though they weren't going anywhere for a while.

* * *

A half an hour earlier, she'd been standing outside of the DMV under the gloomy gray skies of mid-November. She watched as her son and his 60-something, overweight, balding, driving instructor took off in her car down the concrete road that led to the main streets.

She believed everything would be smooth sailing from there on out, so she decided to smoke her last cigarette. Her high-heels clicked along the sidewalk as she walked an appropriate distance away from the government building. She reached into her arm purse and pulled out her stick and lighter and was prepared to light up, when she was approached by none other than the driving instructor and her son, who wore a rather amused look upon his face.

"What happened?" she asked incredulously, almost dropping her cigarette. "Didn't you two just leave?!"

"Who's been... _ahem_... 'helping' this boy with his driving?" the instructor asked in a no-nonsense matter.

"I..." She quickly placed her items back into her purse, zipped it closed, and replied, "I have... and his father somewhat..." She frowned. "Why? What happened?"

"He has a _lot_ of work to do before I would even consider having him behind the wheel of _any_ operating vehicle."

With that, the test paper was shoved into her hands and the instructor spun around on his bloated heels and wobbled back to the DMV to work on his next student. She looked down at the paper and saw massive remarks written in big, bold letters.

"All I did was hit the curb…" Gary said innocently before she could even look at him. Seconds later, in a light-hearted manner, her boy added, "... and I added a nice dent to your hood."

* * *

"Did you not take your medication this morning?" Mrs. Smith asked edgily as she noticed the traffic was beginning to move forward. She placed her foot on the brake, shifted into the drive gear, switched her foot to the gas pedal, and moved forward a few inches. When traffic once again came to a halt, she put the car in park once again but left the engine running.

"I took them, _Mother," _Gary answered, stressing on the word "mother."

"So what happened?"

"The idiot said to take a right and I took a right. It's not my fault that he tricked me."

"I doubt that he tricked you." She noticed his shoulders trembling slightly, as if he was laughing. "Oh? You thought it would be funny to try to go cruising along the sidewalk, then?"

He threw her a quick glance over his shoulder and offered, "Yes."

"Gary!" She slapped her hand against the dash board and cursed. "What the hell is wrong with you? This is the third behind-the-wheel test you've take and _failed! _Driving is no joke! It means responsibility and freedom!"

Gary rolled his eyes upward. "Yes, I know, Mother. 'Driving's not a right – it's a privilege.'" He recalled that statement (one of the few things he remembered) from the driving manual only because it sounded incredibly stupid.

"Don't you want to drive someday?"

He shifted in his seat to where he was seated forward, and he started inspecting the shoelaces on his shoes. Without looking at her, he answered, "Yes."

She quickly grew impatient, though the congestion that threatened to swallow her and Gary was not helping her mood. "Then what in God's name is the matter with you? Is it the medication you're taking? Do you want something different?"

Gary narrowed his eyes and hissed, "I don't want to take them _at all."_

She closed her eyes tightly. "Gary... You know we can't have that."

"Why?" He turned and looked over at her as she opened her eyes. She was met with a dark, smoldering gaze. "Because I might go, as you said to my face back at the asylum, 'nuts'? Like I did back at Bullworth Academy?"

She glanced away uncomfortable and drummed her fingernails on the steering wheel once again. "I thought your father and I agreed that you would not discuss that particular incident anymore."

"Are you drowning in deep denial, Mother? Have you forgotten what I'm capable of?"

He was pushing her limit, as he always did with her and his father. Her husband used to strike their only child on several occasions; she, on the other hand, once slapped him for making a smart remark about her weight a few years back. Most of the time she hollered at him for something or another. It was painfully obvious that nothing they did could scare their son into straightening up. After Gary was kicked out of his fifth school, they received an informational pamphlet in the mail for Bullworth Academy. It seemed like a tough and respectable school located within the gorgeous New England landscape. They quickly submitted an application for their son as a last ditch effort to get him to settle down. Unfortunately, the peace didn't last too long for the Smiths and they found themselves once again, struggling to keep their troublesome son in check.

"I know _exactly _what you're capable of," Mrs. Smith replied as she saw the herd of cars move forward like cattle across the grasslands. She shifted the gear into drive and crawled ahead. "That's why I will do whatever it takes to make sure you don't get into trouble again. I _want_ you to be good, Gary. I want you to have friends and to maintain a normal life."

"Not gonna happen," Gary said nonchalantly. He put his hands behind his head and smirked at his own reflection as if he achieved something grand and daring. "I can pick and choose my so-called friends. And for your information, I happen to think I have a healthy lifestyle for myself."

"... That's what the psychiatrist told your father and me."

Gary shrugged and said nothing. Meanwhile the cars were staring to surge forth further and further. It looked like the backup was just about diminished and they would be able to get back onto the main highway in no time.

Mrs. Smith cleared her throat and asked, "Did you _try_ to concentrate on what you were doing?" Her words were sharp and unforgiving, as if he wasn't capable of doing anything right.

"What kind of question is that?" Gary abruptly snapped as he made a fist on top of his lap. "I tried, Mother! I tried to concentrate! The idiot told me to go right and I did!"

She heard the slight tremble in his tone and the witnessed his bottom lip quivering. She knew far too well he was upset. He often complained about the painful headaches he experienced with the medication. Maybe that's what happened; maybe he started to hurt and that's why he couldn't concentrate, despite what he claimed.

She decided to go about this at another angle. "Do you want to learn how to drive?"

"Yeees..." He sounded a little unsure of himself but at the same time, she felt somewhat relieved by this.

"Very well. You have to promise me that the next time you take the test that you will try your best to concentrate. I know you said you tried, but I want you to really try. Please don't scratch the curb, don't hit the mailbox, and don't lean out the window and shout obscenities at the people walking outside..." She cringed at that last statement, as it occurred during his second attempt at the behind-the-wheel test.

"Fine, Mother, I'll try not to be a screw up."

"Hey..." She suddenly felt wracked with guilt. It was one of those moments where his voice was laced with such sincerity. She rarely, ever saw this side of him. He was often so sarcastic and so overly confident of his capabilities. He never allowed himself to come off as unguarded or "weak." Or if he did come off as such, he'd always counter with some smart-ass remark to show others that he would not go down without some sort of fight.

She tucked a lock of hair behind one of her ears as she applied more pressure to the gas pedal and made her way along with the flowing traffic. "You're not a screw up," she insisted firmly, as if she was trying to bolster this statement for the both of them. "I just want you to try harder next time. I want you to achieve something besides getting into trouble. Can you do that for me? At least once?"

A quick glance to the side found Gary looking out the window once more, the back of his head facing her. After a few moments of silence, he muttered, "... We'll see."

His response was the closest to a "yes" that Mrs. Smith could ever hope for.

* * *

THE END

* * *

**Author's Notes**: Well, it's certainly been a while since I've posted anything here. I'd finally gotten my hands on _Bully: Scholarship Edition _for my Xbox 360 a few weeks back, and playing the game got my creative gears grinding once again. From what I understand, game-wise, we only learn bits and pieces of Gary's family from the random dialogue spoken by the townspeople. So I assumed Gary's mother is fair game for my story! I may have made her less bitchy than I originally intended – oh well. Please let me know what you thought of this story!


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